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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26454010">Your Guardian Fallen Angel</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brother_Momentum/pseuds/Brother_Momentum'>Brother_Momentum</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Asagao Academy: Normal Boots Club</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>He Ho this is my first post on AO3 Im terrified, How the fuck do you title stories IM GONNA FIX IT I SWEAR, Man if I had a dollar for every time that happened-, More characters are coming!!!! I'm just adding them in the tags as they show up, Multi, Oh dear I havent properly written in years, Please join me on this dumpster fire of a fic, You ever just come back from being dead and find out all your friends arent like. normal people</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 06:53:45</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>472</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26454010</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brother_Momentum/pseuds/Brother_Momentum</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>AKA The Jeff Found Dead In the Water Fic</p><p>If the prestigious Asagao Academy can sweep the murder of one of its students under the rug, what else could it be hiding? Or, what kind of things could be being actively hidden from the Academy?<br/>The only thing one can understand is that there are happenings here that one can't even begin to understand occurring almost every day.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Your Guardian Fallen Angel</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Yo I'm sorry that this first chapter is so short sdjbhvskb </p><p>I'm very bad at starting off stories so I'm just. Working on setting things up! I hope it's satisfactory, haha.<br/>I don't think I've properly written anything in maybe four years so hopefully I can get my writing muscles back in working orders in a few chapters. Once I think I do, I'll for sure revamp the old chapters!</p><p>I have a general idea of where I want this to go, but eventually we're gonna hit a point where the plot twists surprise /everyone/<br/>Anyways, please enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Heavy.</p><p>My eyelids are heavy. Hundred pound weights tethering my eyes shut. </p><p>Pain.</p><p>Pain resounds through my whole body - starting at the chest and spreading like a plague down through my limbs all the way to my appendages. </p><p>Ugh… All I can do is lay there with my eyes seemingly glued shut. I can tune into the noise. I hear talking. It’s muffled, but as I try to focus on it, it clears up.</p><p>“”How the hell are we supposed to sweep this one under the rug..?” A female voice, panic soaked, whisper yells. </p><p>“Ah, they’ll figure it out. They always do.” This voice is a harsh juxtaposition from the one before - calm, collected, seemingly unbothered. This voice is rather nice to listen to. A deep male voice with an accent I can’t quite place. “Believe me, this… event… will have no negative impact on anything. No one but you, Ian, and I will know.”</p><p>I try once again to open my eyes, putting all my effort back into such a seemingly simple task. I finally manage to raise my eyelids slightly, and am attacked by the harsh lights. In combination of the harsh smell of cleaning product, it's enough to make me want to go back to sleep. Oh well, too late now. With a whine, I manage to shield my eyes, allowing them to begin to adjust. I’m in a closed, albeit bright space, curtains seemingly shielding the small area from the rest of the room. A figure sits next to my bed, though they are mostly obscured by an over sized lab coat and a yellow mask adorned on the side of their head. Next to them is an older woman, tugging on and twirling her auburn-grey hair, rocking back and forth between her heels and toes like an anxious child. Last is a younger man behind the woman, staring at me, frowning. His neon yellow jacket is almost as much of an eyesore as the bright lights, though the rest about him is very… normal, I suppose? His eyes catch mine, and before I can look away he stalks over to the bed.</p><p>“Jeff... “ He looks me up and down, his frown turning up into more of a neutral. His voice is certainly not the male voice I had heard earlier. This one has a very strong hint of familiarity to it. He hesitates, then continues speaking, “Er… how are you feeling? You uh… ah…” He shakes his head and shuts his mouth, pushing his hair out of his face, the corners of his lips turned more down again. It seems he wants to say more, but instead he stays quiet.</p><p>“Ah… I’m sorry…” try to pull myself back on the bed away from him, but find myself unable to pull my weight around yet. “Who are you…?”</p>
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